<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Shift by Iceenotallowed</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821113">Shift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iceenotallowed/pseuds/Iceenotallowed'>Iceenotallowed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Dreamwastaken, Wilbur Soot - Fandom, tommyinnit - Fandom, tubbo - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dream Smp, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:22:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iceenotallowed/pseuds/Iceenotallowed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My spin on the Dream SMP</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Author notes: This is my first time writing a proper story :D  I have lots and lots of plans for this, including an animatic series! But for now I’m just writing out the blueprint first. I'm not 100% sure how I want to exactly portray the story atm but I already have some ideas I’ll soon show off. This is based off of the Dream smp, this is basically my interpretation of the story, and adding my own lore to the mix. Welp, here’s the prologue! Also btw you can find me on twt (@iceenotallowed) and instagram (@cherenicee) where I post art.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Faint sounds of waking birds could be heard. A gentle golden glow slowly washed over the city of Brighton, awakening slumbering civilians. As the sunlight penetrated his window, Wilbur continued to stay sat on his king sized bed, back leaning on the headboard. Puffy, dry and bloodshot eyes stare down an empty notebook page. With bags under his eyes, he glanced at his nightstand, cluttered with crumpled pages and an empty wine bottle. Amongst the mess, a mechanical clock ticked the seconds away.</p><p>“7:33 am”</p><p>“Shit.” He groaned. All-nighters weren’t an unfamiliar occurrence to him. In fact they were an almost daily one. But this one was more miserable than usual. The seemingly endless battle between motivation and the void of inspiration went on for hours on end. But a third party has broken into the ring, crushing motivation. A colossal monster; writer's block has won.</p><p>Defeated, Wilbur shut away the book in a drawer. He wearily shifted to the edge of his mattress and stood up, swaying from side to side, extremely hungover. He jostled on over to his window like a zombie. As he stood staring out his window, daybreakers seen leaving their homes, children walking to school, and all forms of life beginning their day, a raven flew upon a branch of the dying elm tree in front of his two story flat. </p><p>Oddly drawn to the bird, he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. The raven dashed its head back and forth, as if it was searching for something— or someone.<br/>
It’s piercing eyes abruptly landed on Wilbur’s, who tensed up and was now a bit shaken up. Both entities eyeball one another for what felt like an eternity. It was as if the raven was trying to convey some sort of message. But as quick as the bird entered his life, the raven soon flew off, leaving Wilbur dumbfounded.</p><p> </p><p>After a filling dinner, Tommy jogged upstairs to his bedroom. He walked over and jumped into his swivel chair, with a Coke Zero in one hand. He powered on his PC and plopped on his headset. Ruffling up his hair, he was extremely enthusiastic for this evening’s stream. Him and Tubbo were just whitelisted for the Dream SMP.</p><p>He went and called up Tubbo on discord before streaming.</p><p>“Hello Tubbo!” Tommy sounded more hyper than normal.</p><p>“Hey Tommy! You’re gonna start streaming soon, right?”</p><p>“Yeah I just gotta—“ Tommy is interrupted. Uncanny whispers suddenly flood his mind.</p><p>“You still there Tommy?” Tubbo says with concern in his voice. The whispers vanished as soon as Tubbo spoke.</p><p>“Uhm… I think… I think I left a YouTube tab running…”<br/>
He opened chrome and cleared his tab bar, which was so crowded you could barely read the titles.</p><p>“Well, I’m just gonna go ahead and start my stream! I hope any issues get fixed!” Tubbo then muted. Tommy leans back into his chair, extremely unnerved. He wanted to believe it was just a technical issue but…</p><p>...</p><p>Wilbur is sat at his desk, bathing in deafening white noise. His previously blank page was now full…</p><p>…of scratched out words. He took a sip of wine from a newly opened bottle of wine he’d promised himself he would save as a gift to a friend. Massaging his forehead, a migraine isn’t making his life any easier. As he leans his elbows on his desk, sitting in silence and contemplating his life choices…</p><p>Whispers.</p><p>Eyes, now wide open, frantically looked around.</p><p>“WHO THE FUCK IS THERE?” he yells as he jolted up from his seat. He grabbed a pair of scissors laying on the desk. Even when extremely disoriented, he wouldn’t hesitate to stab a bitch. But after surveying the room, no evidence of anything unordinary could be spotted.</p><p>“For fucks sake—- have I gone insane?” he questioned himself. He stood for a moment, catching his breath. After a brief wave of peace, the voices started leaking back into his head, worsening his headache. He fell to his knees, feeling like a hopeless child. The whispers seamlessly turned into lullaby-like coos, almost like a siren’s enchantment. His eyes felt like the weight of the world was weighing them down.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wilbur dropped to his side, unconscious.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>